


Kill the Spare

by TheBeckster



Category: Norse Mythology, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Mythology and Marvel crossover, minor language, violence and character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeckster/pseuds/TheBeckster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn reached for the bowl beside her and held it over Loki’s face. In time he would heal and regain lucidity, and when he did he’d realize that when all of existence had turned its back on him there was still one soul who loved him. Sigyn would stay there, hold the bowl unfailingly, and protect him until the end of the world came.<br/>In which I explore Norse Mythology and retell a familiar story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill the Spare

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy playing with mythology and writing well known myths in my own way. This myth happens to be one my of favorites so it was inevitable that I would get around to writing it.  
> I've listed this as a crossover mainly while I take the story's elements from the myth itself, I wrote it with the Marvel characters and their relationships in mind. And as far as I know, Marvel does not touch on every aspect of the myth that I wanted to include.  
> Any questions can be directed to me and I will answer them as soon as possible.  
> Enjoy.

**Kill the Spare**

 

The world had taken on an intense sharpness for Sigyn as she was forced into her place in the great throne room of the All Father. She felt aware of everything around her: the number of guards that flanked her, the multitude of people that had gathered for the spectacle and the anxious flavor of their mutterings, Odin standing before his throne and flanked by Frigga and Thor, the Warriors Three and Odin’s other elite soldiers stood opposite her, and Loki, the center of attention, bound and chained to the floor. Sigyn’s heart was heavy with worry for her husband. He had truly done it this time; he’d committed an unforgivable crime. He had murdered Balder and taken the first step that would lead to Ragnarok. He had brought about the end of all the worlds with a sprig of mistletoe.

_Oh, Loki, why?_

The God of Mischief stood before Odin with a terrible gleam in his eyes. It was maniacal, haughty, remorseless, and terrifying. He smirked at he was charged of his crimes against all the realms. Sigyn had never seen him like this. Was this another act of his? Was he simply putting up a front? Did he truly feel no remorse for his actions? He could be put to death or face unspeakable tortures, and he treated this like it was a game. Did he think there was no punishment the All Father could place upon him that would not make him regret every crime he had committed? Sigyn’s heart raced and blood roared in her ears. Everything was falling apart because of her. If only she hadn’t told Loki Balder had threatened their sons. They were only idle threats from a bitter man.

Odin motioned to someone unseen and within seconds the hall was filled with shouts and protests. Sigyn recognized the voices in an instant – her sons. Vali and Nari were dragged into the center of the room before their father kicking and screaming, trying vainly to throw off the guards that held them tight. Loki’s smug grin dropped the instant his sons entered the room. Sigyn’s heart tightened and she lunged forward to intercept her sons. She would not allow the All Father to use them to punish Loki. Strong arms grabbed her tightly and pulled her back and two guards stepped in front of her, nearly blocking her view. Sigyn began to shout, crying out for mercy for her sons.

“No! They have done no wrong!”

Vali, just on the cusp of manhood at the age of sixteen, stopped his struggles and fixed the All Father with a glare that would curdle milk. He stepped in front of his little brother protectively. Nari, three years younger, still clung to a few scraps of childhood and looked around fearfully for his mother. He heard her voice, where was she? He reached out and grasped his brother’s arm for comfort.

Loki twitched reflexively towards his children. He was chained to the floor and surrounded by soldiers; the best he could do was fix Odin with a venomous glare. A wave of silence rippled through the gathered Asgardians momentarily until the buzz of conversation picked up again. They all wondered what part the children would play.

Sigyn’s pleas rose in volume until she was struck from behind. The blow to her head sent her to her knees and made her vision black out momentarily. From what seemed like a mile away she heard the All Father utter some words. When her vision cleared she looked up and saw Vali on the floor writhing and screaming as if in unbearable pain. Nari knelt next to him, a tentative hand hovering over his brother’s shoulder. He called Vali’s name over and over again. Within seconds, Sigyn saw the changes happening. Vali’s long dark hair receded into his skull and turned bristly and gray. The grey bristle grew all over his body. With sickening pops and cracks his bones and joints reformed. Claws took the place of his fingernails, and his hands curled up into large paws. His face elongated until a muzzle replaced the beloved features Sigyn cherished. With every passing second Vali’s cries became less human and more animalistic. Vali curled in on himself tightly and with one last cry and whole body shudder the transformation was complete. Nari had backed away from his brother, but never stopped calling his name. His calls echoed around the now silent room.

Hardly a soul dared to breathe. Slowly, and stiffly, Vali uncurled and rose to his feet. Sigyn blanched and found her voice caught in her throat. Her son had been transformed into a full grown wolf. He no longer showed any resemblance to the boy he had been, but perhaps some of his humanity remained. It only took a second for Vali to get his bearings of the room, and he bristled, bared his teeth, and growled savagely. He backed away from Nari slowly for a couple steps before stopping abruptly.

Her sons were chained together.

Vali grew even more defensive once he realized he was chained. He quickly located the body that held the chain. The collar around his neck made a straight line to Nari’s waist. He deepened his growl and approached the small Asgardian slowly. The younger brother backed up slowly, trying to keep as much space between him and his wolf-brother. A constant stream of fervent pleas to his brother tumbled out of his lips and fell upon deaf ears. He never broke eye contact with the wolf’s cold yellow eyes. Then Nari took one step more than that his brother and the chain jerked around Vali’s neck.

With a monstrous snarl the wolf lunged forward. Nari turned to run. One, two, three steps before the wolf overtook him. It took a minute for the screams to end. Sigyn could not tear her eyes away from the slaughter happening before her.

Odin signaled again with a hand motion. Armed soldiers stepped forward, grabbed ahold of the, now severed, chain, and dragged the raging wolf out of the room. His paws left bloody streaks on the floor. With a heart wrenching scream, Sigyn scrambled forward. She reached the mangled body of her son and held him close. Sobs wracked her body and the only sound that could be heard throughout the hall was that of her grief. Sigyn didn’t see the soldiers drag a stunned and broken Loki out of the throne room, nor did she hear the death howl of Vali echo from an adjoining room.

Slowly, the citizens of Asgard trickled away. Their fear of Ragnarok had made them call for retribution. Balder’s death was the first omen; the others could not be far off. Some of them felt satisfied; their lusts for blood and vengeance satiated. Most of them felt sickened with themselves; they had demanded Loki’s punishment, not the slaughter of two children.

Sigyn wept and pressed kisses onto Nari’s forehead. Between her sobs she muttered apologies to her son, to both of them. She was sorry it had come to this. She was sorry Loki had done what he had. She was sorry they had been punished. She was sorry that Odin had not chosen her instead. She apologized to them for not dying in their place. She wished she was dead too.

Two, grim faced, soldiers approached to take Nari’s body away. Sigyn protested, clutching her son closer to her. Strong, but gentle hands came from behind and detached her from Nari. The soldiers stole the body away quickly. Sigyn turned to strike the intruder. How could he let them take her son away? She slapped him across the face, and Nari’s blood streaked across Thor’s cheek. He did not look any happier than Sigyn; his eyes were filled with a deep sorrow he could not express.

Sigyn screamed at him wordlessly, and moved to strike him again. Thor caught her wrist. She tried again with her other fist, but he caught it too. Sigyn stared into his eyes, and, through her grief, rage began to burn fiercely. This was Thor, Odin’s first born, the crown prince of Asgard and future king. Nobody held more sway over the All Father than he did. Sigyn spat fiercely into his eyes; he flinched and released her hands.

“You bastard!” she screamed, letting her anger take over. She balled her hands into fists and began to beat on Thor’s chest. “You could have stopped this! You could have saved my sons! You… you stood there and said nothing!”

Thor stood still and took the abuse. Odin had not shared the complete nature of Loki’s punishment with him – he knew Thor’s weakness when it came to his nephews. It did not make him feel any less responsible for their fates. He had a number of chances to step in and change things. After a minute of barely coherent swears and curses Sigyn’s rage dissolved back into grief. She stepped back with her face in her hands. Thor tried to reach out and comfort her, but she jerked away from his touch.  
After a moment, Sigyn lowered her hands and fixed Thor with a steely glare. “Their blood is on your hands too,” she stated coolly. Then she pushed past Thor and fled the throne room to take refuge in another corner of the palace.

Sigyn grieved in her living quarters for three days. There had been no funeral services for her sons. Nobody brought her their bodies so she could lay them out on their pyres and place them in Hella’s care properly. She didn’t know what happened to her sons after they were taken from her. Their loss ate her from the inside and most of her time was spent lying despondently on her bed, wishing she could still hear her sons teasing each other in their own rooms. One thought kept nagging her. It started small, peeking through between thoughts of her sons, but over time it took its place at the forefront of her mind.

Loki. He was out there somewhere; imprisoned. She knew he was not dead; such news would not blow through Asgard quietly and no one would dare keep that from her. At first, she hated him; she blamed him for the death of their sons as much as she blamed herself. But hate mellowed out to anger and then resentment. He had no more control over the All Father than she did. She hadn’t forgiven him – his actions lead to the death of Vali and Nari – but she still loved him and she knew he was suffering the same as she, probably more. The least she could do was be there with him, even if it was on the other side of prison bars. She needed him to begin healing, and she knew he would need her as well.

Sigyn hunted Thor down in one of the feast halls. Odin’s halls were always prepared for a feast on a whim, and Sigyn had bristled when a servant told her where the prince could be found. How could he throw a feast in the wake of such a tragedy? Did he not care for his own kin? When she found him, though, her ire disappeared. Thor sat on the steps to the balcony, completely alone. There was no bustle of servants placing food, and the flowers on the tables were a couple days old. There was no feast happening in that room tonight. Thor had sought out solitude and appeared to be reflecting deeply.

“Thor,” Sigyn spoke up with determination as she crossed the room. “Where is Loki being held?”

The Thunder God looked up “I cannot tell you,” he said reluctantly.

“He is my husband. I have a right to know what prison cell he is being held in,” Sigyn shot back, her frustration rising.

“The All Father has declared that you are not to see Loki nor know his location. You cannot see him.”

“This is it, then,” Sigyn began softly and venomously. “This is the final blow. You have taken everything from me: my sons, my husband. Everyone that I love has been violently ripped from my arms.”

Thor said nothing and avoided her eyes.

“Tell me, what sins have I committed to draw the All Father’s wrath?” Sigyn demanded. “Why am I being punished so?”

“You are not being punished,” Thor argued, standing up to face the woman.

“Then why can’t I see my husband?” Sigyn shouted. “Why has everything I love been taken from me if I am not being punished? Why can’t I go to him?” Her voice broke into desperation at the last question.

Thor paused for a moment trying to pick his next words carefully. “I cannot tell you where Loki is, nor would you be allowed to reach him on your own.” Sigyn stiffened as if to start arguing again. He held up his hand to ask for her silence for one more moment. “I can, however, take you to him. The guards will allow you through in my company alone.”  
Sigyn shrunk a little, and in a pleading voice asked, “Will you take me to him, Thor? Please.”

He paused, set his resolve, and nodded. “We will leave immediately.” He strode past the banquet tables and, in an afterthought, picked a bowl off the table. “You may wish to have this,” he muttered, handing the bowl to Sigyn. She took it wordlessly, but confused.

Sigyn heard Loki before she ever saw him. It was hard to mistake his cries echoing off the rock of his prison. Thor had left her at the mouth of a long tunnel, giving her the chance to see Loki’s fate on her own. Sigyn’s fear grew as she walked through the winding tunnel that was hewn out of the same rough rock she had seen since entering this realm. Every few minutes the whole world would shake violently; Loki’s anguished screams always accompanied each quake. Sigyn wasn’t sure she wanted to know whatever tortures were being forced upon Loki.

The tunnel opened suddenly into a large cavern that had been hollowed out by a massive underground river. The remnants of the great river bubbled through the cavern in a small stream. Luminescent lichen grew on the rock surfaces and filled the cavern with an eerie glow. The river, in the past, had not had enough time to erode the cavern’s ceiling completely. Pillars of rock fused seamlessly with the low ceiling, which was riddled with holes and tunnels, and appeared like a stone meshwork.

Sigyn didn’t notice the intricate stone paths overhead, or the burbling stream, and she barely noticed the luminescent lichen on the walls. Her attention was drawn to the figures in the middle of the cavern; she could see them clear as day. Loki was chained to three flat stones. The chains went around his wrists, his ankles, and crisscrossed his abdomen; he couldn’t move anywhere. Above Loki hung a massive black snake. Its body was thick as a sapling, and Sigyn could see that its lengthy tail was coiled securely in the stone overhead. It hovered above Loki’s head with its mouth wide open and fangs bared. Sigyn couldn’t stop herself from inhaling sharply at the scene. She rushed forward and the snake fixed her with poisonous, green eyes; Loki did not seem to recognize her presence.

“If you release him from his bonds I will end you both,” the serpent threatened as Sigyn approached.

“I want to see my husband,” Sigyn informed the snake. “I swear I will not touch his bonds.” As Sigyn spoke, she watched two drops of a sickly yellow venom fall from the snake’s fangs and straight into Loki’s eyes. The god screamed in agony and writhed in his chains. Sigyn nearly lost her balance as the cavern shook with a mighty force. It only lasted as long as Loki was struggling against his bonds. The bowl Thor had given her made sense now.

With a muted cry, Sigyn rushed to Loki and cradled his head in her hands. The serpent pulled itself into the ceiling. Sigyn couldn’t help her tears and they fell onto Loki’s forehead. His eyes had become damaged and disfigured by the venom. They were no longer their brilliant green; they hardly resembled eyes at all. The venom had burnt away deep tracks into his face as it had run out of his eyes; they would leave deep scars without a healer’s magic. Sigyn counted a number of deep punctures all over his body and the skin around the bites looked sickly and green. So this was his punishment; endless torture until Ragnarok claimed all the realms. Loki sightless eyes stared straight upward. He was delirious and muttered incoherently. Sigyn tried to raise a response from him; the best she could get was a mutter that may have been her name.

“So, what shall it be, little wife?” The serpent’s voice came from behind Sigyn; it was silky smooth, mellow, and enticing. He rested his chin on her shoulder when she sat up straight. “Hmm? Will you resign yourself to spend the rest of eternity down here, being punished for a crime you didn’t commit? Or will you return to the surface, put this all behind you and live on until Ragnarok?”

Sigyn shook the heavy head off her shoulder and tried to ignore the snake. She turned her attention back to Loki’s head, resting in her lap.

“Still debating?” the snake asked in her other ear, “Ragnarok couldn’t come for another age or two. Imagine all the living you can get done by then. He is responsible for the slaughter of you sons. If you left him to his just punishment you could find a new husband, raise more sons. They would be strong men before Ragnarok came. A beautiful creature such as you would have no shortage of suitors.” Again, he failed to raise a response from Sigyn. The serpent danced back to her shoulder again. “Do you know where these chains are from? Oh yes, they look like iron don’t they, but they weren’t always iron.” Sigyn’s eyes flicked nervously down to the chains across her husband’s chest. “No, they brought the little body down here with him, tied him up, and performed a nice bit of magic. It was fascinating to watch. I suppose that was the last bit of torture they could pile on, don’t you? It is a shame they didn’t leave the remains for me.”

Sigyn clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. The snake made her want to be sick.

“Ahhh, you understand now,” the serpent drawled.

“Silence!” Sigyn snapped, rounding on the snake. “You will never speak to me again you horrid, foul, lowly beast!”

The snake flicked his tongue at her mockingly, but retreated to the ceiling only to reappear in front of her face. “As you wish, but know that eternity is a long time to sit in a cave for a crime you did not commit.” He opened his mouth and retreated farther upward, venom already gathering at the tips of his fags.

Sigyn reached for the bowl beside her and held it over Loki’s face. In time he would heal and regain lucidity, and when he did he’d realize that when all of existence had turned its back on him there was still one soul who loved him. Sigyn would stay there, hold the bowl unfailingly, and protect him until the end of the world came.


End file.
